


Collapsing Infrastructure and Rebuilding

by parka_girl



Category: Infinite (Band), K-pop, Topp Dogg, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Break Up, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parka_girl/pseuds/parka_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myungsu realizes his relationship with Seokjin ended when he wasn't paying attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 10. Secret

Myungsu knew everyone at the party, it was his boyfriend's birthday after all. But even so, he felt like he didn't belong. Almost all their friends were there, but most of their friends were actually Seokjin's friends. Myungsu hung back, sitting on the couch, near the coffee table covered in food. He watched Seokjin flitting around the room, talking to everyone. He looked so happy and Myungsu had trouble being upset with him, but he was. Maybe he'd seen it coming, but he'd felt like their relationship was drawing to an end. It was breaking his heart more than he realized. 

At least they hadn't moved in together, like they'd talked about a few months ago. Myungsu had gotten a promotion at work and with that came overtime and they just hadn't had time to talk about it again. Myungsu figured they could've made time, but neither of them did. Not just him and not just Seokjin. Myungsu watched his boyfriend talking to one of their mutual friends, or was she one of Seokjin's friends. He couldn't remember now. 

They'd been together for three years and Myungsu was happy. He remembered how much fun they used to have. As he stared across the room at Seokjin he realized that their relationship had probably ended around the time he got that promotion. He felt the tears prickle in his eyes, he wanted to push these feelings away, but he couldn't. It was at that moment that Seokjin looked over at him, or at least in his direction. Myungsu watched as Seokjin's gaze drifted past him and then snap back. A slow smile spread across Seokjin's face, a smile that Myungsu used to love. But he could barely return it this time. Seokjin tilted his head, but went back to his conversation. 

Myungsu didn't have anything to drink or eat, he just sat on the couch, watching Seokjin and making pointless small talk with the people around him. The secret, his (their) secret weighing down on him. He knew they'd be okay, after they broke up. Seokjin wasn't as fragile as people thought, but Myungsu didn't want to hurt him. It was a flaw, he thought and pulled out his phone. He texted one of his friends, the ones he didn't share with Seokjin. 

_I think it's over._

He sent the text to Jiho, a friend from his life before Seokjin. He was two years younger, and worked as a backup dancer for some singer Myungsu'd never heard for, but they got on well. They'd known each other in the military and stayed friends after discharging. Jiho's reply was quick, which meant he was probably on break from practice. 

_The party? Sorry I couldn't make it._

Myungsu looked up and saw Seokjin talking to his best friend, someone he'd known for ages as well. From before they got together. Myungsu had always wondered at their history, but both Hyosang and and Seokjin had sworn there wasn't anything. 

_No. I mean, that too probably, but. My … my relationship with Seokjin._

He wanted to cry now that the words were written out there in front of him. He hit send on the text, immediately regretting it. But it was too late now and Jiho always knew what to say anyway. Myungsu looked up again. Seokjin was leaning on Hyosang, they were both laughing. They looked the couple, Myungsu realized. His phone buzzed in his hand, startling him until he remembered the message he'd texted to Jiho. 

_Are you okay? Do you need me to come over? I could probably get out of practice for you._

Myungsu wanted to cry all over again. Jiho wasn't his best friend, but he was one of Myungsu's closest. It was breaking him that Jiho was willing to miss practice for him. But he decided he needed to talk to Seokjin first. 

_No. I'll be fine._

He figured Jiho would know he was lying, but he didn't care. It was true in the long run. He would be fine, eventually. It wasn't as if this was a surprise. It just hurt, because everything hurt. He stood, swallowing his self-pity and shoved his phone into his pocket. The last of the people were leaving the party. Myungsu had already given Seokjin his gift, a dvd box set he'd been coveting. He'd wanted to get Seokjin something special, but hadn't been able to come up with anything. Which, looking back, was obviously a sign. 

Soon everyone was gone, except for Hyosang, Seokjin and himself. Myungsu could feel how much he wasn't wanted there, even if the other two didn't realize it. It wasn't that he thought Seokjin was cheating on him, it was that his eyes had been opened for the first time. Hyosang obviously wanted Seokjin (even if he didn't know it) and Seokjin felt the same. They were oblivious, that was clear. Seokjin probably still thought he was in love with Myungsu. Both of them turned toward Myungsu, who was cleaning up. He stopped, setting the dishes in his hand in the sink. 

"Seokjin," he said, quietly. "Can we talk for a minute?" 

Seokjin nodded, there wasn't any surprise on his face, but when Myungsu glanced at Hyosang, he saw his eyes get big. Maybe they both knew, too, what was coming. Or maybe just Seokjin. Myungsu led Seokjin into the bedroom. He stood near the foot of the bed they'd shared for the whole time they were dating, at least the times they weren't at Myungsu's flat. 

"You okay?" Seokjin asked, "you were quiet all night." 

"Seokjin," Myungsu started, crossing his arms, then uncrossing them. "We …" He didn't know how to do this. It'd been so long since he ended a relationship. 

Seokjin was watching him and then something crossed his face. Realization maybe. "It's okay. I think we should break up, too. I've… been feeling that way for a while." 

Myungsu stared at Seokjin. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't really thought that Seokjin would have figured it out, too. And for some reason this hurt more. His secret wasn't a secret at all and now it was exposed between them. He swallowed, pulling himself together. 

"All right. I'll … I'll just be going. Now." Myungsu managed. 

Seokjin was still watching him, concern on his face. But he made no move to stop Myungsu. "I'll let you know when I'll be out so you can come get your stuff." 

The words, the tone of voice, were so nice, so kind, that Myungsu felt himself starting to break. He'd wanted, he realized, Seokjin to put up a fight. But maybe it was he, not Seokjin, who wasn't ready to let go. The truth was harder to accept than he thought. He stumbled out of the room, barely remembering to grab his coat and slip his shoes on. He felt Hyosang's eyes on him, but neither of them said anything. 

Myungsu pushed the door open and let it slam shut behind him. This wasn't how he'd expected it to go at all. At least, he thought, he hadn't cried while still inside Seokjin's flat. It wasn't even like he wanted to stay together, but it hurt all the same. Or maybe even more. He made his way down the stairs, toward the first floor. He was crying by the time he reached the bottom. 

"Myungsu-hyung!" Someone was shouting his name. It made his heart flutter, hoping it was Seokjin, but it was coming from outside, not upstairs. He wiped at the tears in his eyes and then looked toward the sound of his name. There, leaning against an idling car, was Jiho. When he saw Myungsu's face, the tears sliding down it, Jiho pushed off the car and strode across the sidewalk, toward him. He looked so much older than Myungsu felt, even though it wasn't the case. 

"What're you doing here?" Myungsu said, his voice stuffy and rough, tears still spilling down his face. 

"Hyung. Oh, hyung." Jiho said and wrapped his arms around Myungsu. "I knew you weren't going to be fine."


	2. 92. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myungsu wallows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies! I knew I was missing something, this is the middle chapter. The story should make A LOT more sense now.

It'd been a month, almost two, since he and Seokjin had broken up. He'd spent the whole time sleeping on Jiho's couch. Not technically his couch, but he'd barely gone back to his flat. And Jiho had gone to Seokjin's to get Myungsu's stuff back (even though Myungsu hadn't wanted any of it). He'd expected to bounce back from the end of his relationship a lot quicker, but he was finding it hard. He forced himself cheerful for work, did his overtime, which was almost done as well, another month of that and he could go back to having a social life (not that he wanted one). 

When Jiho was home, they watched TV, played video games, sang karaoke, anything to keep Myungsu's mind busy. When Jiho was working, which was often, his singer was preparing for a comeback, Myungsu would do nothing. He'd drink himself drunk enough not to dream or he'd play sad music until he cried so hard he got sick. But he was always cleaned up by the time Jiho got home. Or so he thought. 

"Myungsu-hyung." Jiho said one evening as he stripped out of his practice clothes. 

"Yeah?" Myungsu was in the kitchen, working on dinner. It was the least he could do, since he didn't want to go home and Jiho was graciously letting him stay here. 

"We need to talk." Jiho said, flopping down into one of the chairs in the kitchen. 

Myungsu whirled around. He'd been dreading this conversation, he didn't want to go home yet. He didn't know what to say, he just looked at Jiho. 

"Hyung. Oh, god. Hyung, I'm sorry. I'm not kicking you out. You can live here with me forever, if you want." Jiho was up and out of his chair again, in a flash. He crossed the room, to Myungsu, grabbing his shoulders. They were almost the same height, Jiho was just a little bit taller. 

"Then … what?" Myungsu whispered.

"You're not sleeping. I know you're… I know you think you're hiding it from me, but I can tell." Jiho reached out and brushed some of Myungsu's hair, which needed to be cut, away from his eyes. "You don't think I didn't see the empty soju bottles? I know you cry when you think I'm asleep, too." He reached out and stroked Myungsu's face. 

Myungsu pulled back, not because he didn't want to be near Jiho, but because he was embarrassed. He was supposed to be the older one. Jiho wasn't supposed to be taking care of him like this. "I …" Myungsu started, but he didn't know what to say. 

"Hyung. Hyung, it's okay." Jiho whispered. 

Myungsu turned back to the stove, stirring the pot before it boiled over. He felt Jiho step in closer, slide his arms around him. They'd always been close, practically best friends, but neither of them were into those labels. Myungsu breathed in deep, felt Jiho holding him securely. And he felt the tears again. He wanted to be done with this, but there was an ache in his chest he didn't expect, one he couldn't seem to fill. That he didn't want to fill. The feeling of emptiness was part of him now and if he didn't feel it, something was wrong. 

Jiho just held him tighter, letting him cry. He didn't say anything and Myungsu was grateful. He stirred absently, letting his head fall back against Jiho's. They stayed that way until dinner had finished cooking. Myungsu had stopped crying at some point, but he didn't want Jiho to let go and Jiho hadn't. There was something there, something moving deep in Myungsu, but he wasn't ready for it. He pushed it away, letting the ache slide back into place. It left him feeling both whole and empty. He didn't understand how that was possible, but there it was.

That night Myungsu slept hard, no dreams, no tears. But when Jiho left the next morning for work, Myungsu, who didn't have to work on weekends, was alone with his thoughts. He tried to think about the way Jiho held him, the way he cared. The fact that he hadn't pushed Myungsu away, hadn't kicked him out. But a text, from Seokjin, rattled him all over again. It was a simple text, saying he'd put the keys to Myungsu's flat in his box, since Myungsu hadn't answered his door. 

Myungsu couldn't remember the last time he'd been to his flat. He all but lived with Jiho, now. He didn't want to be alone, not with his thoughts and his own things. His own thoughts were already too much. There was another text, from Seokjin, explaining that he'd already gotten his things back from Myungsu's flat. And a third text, from a mutual friend of theirs, saying that Seokjin was worried because it didn't look like anyone had been in his flat. Myungsu deleted the texts without answering. 

He crawled into bed, the one he shared with Jiho, since Jiho refused to let him sleep on the couch. Not that they hadn't shared a bed before, but Myungsu was grateful, he didn't want to sleep alone any more than he wanted to be in his own flat. He turned off his phone, left it on the nightstand and cried himself to sleep. He spent the whole day there, not even bothering to clean or fix dinner or do the laundry, like he'd planned. It was his way of paying rent, but the idea of doing it was just too much. All he could think about was Seokjin, concerned about him, except not really. 

He was still in bed, wallowing in his own self-pity, when Jiho got home. He heard Jiho calling for him, but he didn't answer. He heard Jiho puttering around the flat, heard his steps grow frantic when he saw all the things Myungsu hadn't done. The door to the bedroom flew open and Jiho was rushing over to the bed. 

"Hyung!" His voice was scared, full of worry. 

Myungsu didn't want to answer, but he did open his eyes, looking at his friend. 

Jiho seemed to sag with relief. Myungsu didn't ask why, didn't apologize, just curled back up and closed his eyes. He listened to Jiho undress, changing into something else. Everything was silent and then Jiho was pulling the covers back on the bed. He slide under them, then reached out and tugged Myungsu to him. They fit neatly together and it was this that broke Myungsu all over again. This time his tears were quiet, the only noise his soft sniffling. His shoulders shook and Jiho held onto him. 

"He texted me, too." Jiho said, finally, voice soft. "I didn't get it until a few minutes ago." Jiho's hand stroking down Myungsu's back. Holding him closer, tighter. "You don't ever have to go back there." Jiho whispered. 

Myungsu shifted back, looking at Jiho, who was watching him. "I'm the worst hyung ever." He said, quietly, through tears that were starting to stop. 

"You're just … haunted." Jiho said, quietly. 

"I don't even think I was in love with him." Myungsu said, the words tumbling out of him. Jiho looked like he was going to say something, but Myungsu talked over him. "I thought. I thought he didn't know, that it should end. But he'd wanted … He wanted to end it before I realized it was over. He …" Myungsu stopped, crying a little, then pulled himself back together. "I was going to break up with him, but he just did it first." 

Jiho's arms slid around Myungsu, pulling him close. Myungsu felt a tiny bit better, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Not a big one and the ache in his chest was still there, but maybe, just maybe, it was getting a little smaller. He didn't know if that was true, but in the secure embrace of Jiho's arms, he felt like maybe things could get better.


	3. 83. Build

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiho is there when Myungsu needs him.

Six months passed and Myungsu had sold his flat, along with most of it's furnishings. He hadn't gotten a new place, instead he and Jiho just moved the rest of his stuff into Jiho's flat. They'd turned Jiho's practice room into a bedroom, but even six months later, Myungsu still spent most nights in Jiho's bed. His heart still hurt sometimes and he realized, a month or so ago, after a failed blind date, the real reason he hurt so much. 

Walking home in the snow, knowing that even though the flat would be empty, Jiho would be home before it got too late, Myungsu had felt okay. He thought back to his relationship with Seokjin. Six months wasn't long, compared to the three years they'd dated. But it was long enough that the ache Myungsu felt had begun to fade. He knew, now, that he'd felt betrayed. If Seokjin had believed the relationship was already over, Myungsu didn't understand why he hadn't ended it. At least not until Myungsu brought it up. And maybe that didn't matter, in the scheme of things, but it mattered to Myungsu. Or at least it did. 

Sometimes he'd see couples walking past, holding hands, and his heart with ache with longing. Thinking about how he'd walk with, holding hands with Seokjin. But he realized, too, after that same blind date, that it wasn't so much Seokjin that he missed as much as it was being in a relationship. He thought about Jiho, waiting up for him when he had overtime. Or his waiting up for Jiho when his practices ran late. He knew he wasn't lonely, not like he was those first couple of months. 

He didn't cry anymore, not about Seokjin at least. The ache was still there, even if he understood the reasons behind it. He thought about their relationship and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how flawed it was. He allowed himself to wallow in bitterness and self-hatred. How could he have been so blind? But eventually Jiho would notice how sullen he was and pull him back to the real world. 

It was snowing again, as he was walking from the metro to the flat he shared with Jiho. He stopped and looked into a shop window. It was done up for Christmas and somehow it was December. Myungsu didn't know where the time had gone, half of those six months were a blur of tears and broken hearts. And now here he was, still going, never stopping. Not that he could, Jiho would never let him. 

The realization, his second in as many weeks, hit him so hard he couldn't breathe for a second or two. He had to rest one of his hands on the brick wall next to the store window he'd been looking at. He took a deep, shuddering breath and looked up at the sky. The snow fell on his face, cold against his suddenly hot skin. He felt like he'd woken up from a deep sleep. It was as if things finally made sense. Maybe not things, but one thing. 

He pulled out his phone and looked at the time, then at Jiho's text. He'd be home soon. They'd probably get there at the same time if Myungsu hurried. He picked up his pace, walking swiftly down the road toward their building. He turned on their street just in time to see the car that always dropped Jiho off after practice. He shouted for Jiho, who stopped and turned, a smile spread across his face. Myungsu knew then, as he'd known out in front of the store, that everything he'd wanted, everything he'd been missing, was right in front of his face. 

He walked swiftly, covering the distance between them quickly. Jiho was typing something into his phone as Myungsu got closer. He slowed, just before he reached Jiho, watching him. How, Myungsu thought, could he have been so stupid. Jiho looked up, another grin crossed his face. It made Myungsu's insides melt in a way he'd forgotten was even possibly, if he'd ever known. 

"Good timing." Jiho said as they walked toward the door to their building. 

"Luck." Myungsu said, returning the smile. He felt like he was going to float away, he couldn't keep himself grounded. "Long day?" He asked once they'd gotten inside. 

Jiho nodded. "New song. The next comeback's scheduled for February." 

"Not a lot of time to learn it." Myungsu said, grateful for the small talk. He wasn't sure how he was going to be able to explain what he was feeling. 

Jiho nodded. "That's what I said, but we'll see." 

They lapsed into silence, the only sound as they walked up the stairs was wet boot on cement. Jiho unlocked the door to the flat, letting them inside. Myungsu shrugged out of his coat, hanging it, and then Jiho's up. After removing his shoes, he followed Jiho into the kitchen. He watched as Jiho surveyed the contents of their refrigerator. 

Myungsu leaned against the door frame, studying Jiho as if he'd never seen him before. Jiho pulled out a couple of containers, set them on the counter and then turned around. He caught Myungsu staring. 

"Hyung?" He asked and Myungsu realized he'd never have another chance quite like this. 

He swallowed and pushed away from the wall. He crossed the room, but stopped and leaned against the table, placing it between the two of them. 

"I've been thinking." He said, quietly. 

"About?" There was something in Jiho's voice that sounded vaguely familiar, but after a moment he knew what it was. It was fear, the same he'd expressed when he thought Jiho was going to kick him out. 

He straightened up and walked around the table, until he was next to Jiho. Close enough to touch, but enough to give him room. He took another breath and went on. "About us." He said, quietly. "I realized … I think I've been a big idiot." He said, softly. 

"Hyung?" Jiho's word was a question, but one look at his face told Myungsu everything he needed to know. 

He took a step forward, then another. He felt Jiho's hands on his hips, tugging at him, and then they were kissing. Jiho's arms sliding around him, his own arm around Jiho's neck, his other hand in Jiho's hair. It was like he was meant to be right there. Jiho's mouth was hot on his, a perfect fit against his own. Their bodies fit together, just like Myungsu knew they would, from the first time Jiho had held him while he cried. 

"I was waiting." Jiho whispered against Myungsu's mouth. 

"Waiting for me to figure it out?" Myungsu replied, a little breathless. 

Jiho kissed the corner of Myungsu's mouth. "No." 

Myungsu looked at him. "No?" 

"I was waiting for you to heal." Jiho whispered and then kissed him. His mouth was hot again, insistent. Myungsu kissed him back, pouring all of his love into the kiss. 

"I'm sorry it took so long." He whispered the words against Jiho's lips. 

A smile ghosted across Jiho's mouth before he kissed him again. "I was willing to wait." 

"How long?" Myungsu rested his head on Jiho's shoulder. 

"As long as it took for you to rebuild." Jiho murmured in reply. 

Myungsu felt something surge through him, emotions he'd forgotten he was capable of feeling. He had to swallow hard to keep the tears back, but Jiho was kissing him, gentle and tender. And he cried again. Jiho kissed the tears away, his hand stroking along Myungsu's side. 

"I'm still broken." Myungsu finally said, his voice thick. 

Jiho kissed the side of his face before replying. "It's okay. I'll always be here to hold you together."


End file.
